


Do I Wanna Know?

by bulletsandbutterflies (turningpages)



Series: Mad Sounds [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Fingerfucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turningpages/pseuds/bulletsandbutterflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1150811"><em>Stop the World 'cause I Wanna Get Off With You</em></a>. </p><p>How Sherlock convinces Professor Watson to fuck him senseless in the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do I Wanna Know?

“Professor Watson, may I speak with you?”

John looks up from the paper he’s grading, surprised to see Sherlock Holmes of all people standing in the doorway of his office. The boy always seemed to hate him, snorting sarcastically whenever he’s speaking in class, although he has no idea why. All his other students adore him – at least it _appears_ as if they love him – but he can barely get Sherlock to look as if he tolerates John’s presence.

Pushing his thoughts and papers aside, John musters up a somewhat friendly smile. “Is something wrong, Mr. Holmes?”

“I confess I didn’t really grasp the topic you discussed earlier today,” Sherlock starts, walking closer to John’s desk, and John can’t help but notice how Sherlock’s jeans are clinging possessively to his thighs. “I was wondering if you could tutor me, when you’re free.”

John looks up at the dark-haired boy in surprise. Sherlock is probably the brightest student he’s taught – probably the smartest boy, he’ll ever teach. He’s never had trouble answering the questions John shoots at him – even having the audacity to make a sarcastic remark now and then – and although John knows he doesn’t listen to his lectures half the time, Sherlock always passed his assessments with flying colors. 

“That’s a bit unusual coming from you,” John admits, and Sherlock gives him a sheepish smile. Something stirs in John, but he ignores it and continues, “You usually know what I’m going to say before I say it.”

“Yes, I know, and that’s why I didn’t want to come to you right after class,” Sherlock says, slightly blushing and biting one side of his lower lip. Something definitely stirs in John, and he clears his throat in an effort to suppress the feeling.

“Well, alright,” John smiles uncertainly, and Sherlock’s face lights up. “I’m free now.”

“ _No_!” Sherlock exclaims quickly, almost making John jump. “I mean, I can’t do it now. I have a chemistry experiment I have to finish.”

“Alright,” John begins, eyeing Sherlock suspiciously. Sherlock gives him another sheepish smile, and John _has_ to look away before he does anything asinine, resorting to checking his agenda instead. “I’m free tonight at seven after my last class…”

“That’s perfect,” Sherlock interrupts, nodding his head vigorously. “I’ll see you then.”

And then with a grace that makes John heart beats faster, Sherlock slips out of the office, leaving a bewildered John to continue grading his students’ papers.

***

John had always thought Sherlock to be attractive – actually, too _bloody_ attractive for John’s good. The moment he walked into the lecture room and saw Sherlock slouching on one of the chairs with his dark, curly hair, stormy eyes, pale skin and perfect heart-shaped lips, John knew he was going to be in a hell lot of trouble.

And God, he wasn’t wrong.

The first night John dreamt about Sherlock – on his knees between John’s legs moaning like a whore as he sucks on John’s cock – he woke up gasping and sweating. He was so hard it hurt, but at the time John still held on to some form of sensibility and refused to touch himself. He woke up the next day in a terrible mood. 

The second night, John decided to just _sod it_ and wrapped his fingers around his cock, tugging it hard at the memory of the dream – Sherlock on the bed with his arms tied above his head and his long legs spread, begging John to fuck him hard. 

And soon, John found it hard not to fantasize about Sherlock, up to the point that he finds himself having the best orgasm he’s ever had while wanking in the shower thinking about Sherlock riding him as he pounds into the young man from below.

It was hard to act like nothing was wrong in class once the dreams started, but John was able to do this by pointedly ignoring Sherlock’s presence. He stopped asking Sherlock to answer questions and every time Sherlock feels the need to insult him in the middle of lectures, John pretends not to hear him.

***

“Can I come in, Professor?”

The clock just struck seven when John hears a knock on the door. Sherlock opens it but doesn’t walk in, waiting for his permission instead. Once again, John’s surprised at Sherlock’s behavior – first, asking for help, and now making an effort to be polite – but he ignores the warning bells ringing in his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” John waves him in, not bothering to look up as he makes his concluding comment on the last paper he has to grade – _finally!_ – and hears rather than see Sherlock closing the door behind him. When he looks up, Sherlock has slung off his bag from his shoulder and is sitting down on his sofa. 

“Uh, Mr. Holmes, I think it would be better if we sat here.”

“I’d rather work _here_ ,” Sherlock argues with a pleasant smile. “I find it helps me think better. That is, if you don’t mind?”

John stares at his student incredulously, wondering what the hell is going on, but decides to acquiesce, being too bloody tired to quarrel. He puts his papers away and joins Sherlock on the sofa. 

“Oh, and Professor?”

“Hm?”

“Call me Sherlock.”

John swallows hard, refusing to look at the nineteen-year old beside him. He feels his cheeks flushing and his cock starting to stir and grits his teeth in order to control himself. 

“Okay, Sherlock, what didn’t you understand?”

“Oh, I understood everything you said perfectly,” Sherlock shrugged with a smirk.

John blinks, looking at Sherlock properly for the first time since he knocked on the door. “Then, why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“Talk?”

“Yes, Professor, it’s when a person converses with another person in order to communicate information or express ideas or feelings,” Sherlock says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “For a professor, you’re not very smart.”

The urge to punch Sherlock in the face washes over John for a second, but his anger is overshadowed by his curiosity. 

“Talk about what?”

“How much you want me.”

John inhales sharply, watching Sherlock’s face light up with triumph.

“I deduced that correctly, didn’t I?”

“Sherlock, I think it’s best if you leave now,” John says, in an effort to stop this mad scene from playing out, but just as he’s about to stand up Sherlock’s hand grabs onto his wrist, keeping him rooted on the spot. “Sherlock, you need to leave.”

“I don’t want to,” Sherlock says petulantly, “and you can’t make me.”

“I’m your bloody professor!”

“Oh, come now, Professor Watson,” Sherlock starts with another one of his infuriating smirks. “You want this just as much as I do.”

John stills and finally understands what’s going on. He studies the state Sherlock’s in – dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing – and makes a deduction of his own.

“What do you want, Sherlock?” John asks, amazed at how calm he sounds when his heart beating a mile a minute. He stares directly into the stormy eyes, which dilates even further with John’s question.

“I want you to fuck me,” Sherlock whispers slowly in that sinful voice of his, lips deliberately forming the words as he says it. John groans, feeling his cock twitch, and Sherlock takes this opportunity to climb onto his lap.

“ _Christ_ , Sherlock, we can’t!” John hisses as he tries to push Sherlock off. His attempts to flee only succeed in making Sherlock’s delicious ass rub against his cock, and it takes all of John’s effort not to rip the boy’s clothes off and bend him over the table. “I’m your sodding professor!”

“I don’t give a rat’s arse,” Sherlock scoffs and commences to grind his hips against John’s, tipping his head back at the feeling. “I want you in me, John. I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll still feel you in me tomorrow morning while I listen to you in class.”

John lets out a growl at the image, but he grips Sherlock’s slim hips with his big hands, forcing Sherlock to stop. The younger man lets out a whine of frustration.

“Sherlock, as much as I want to fuck you _senseless_ over that table,” John starts, and Sherlock moans longingly at the thought, “I’m still very much your professor. _Jesus_ if anyone walks in on us now I’ll be sacked and you’d be looking for a new university.”

“Don’t worry, I locked the door when I came in,” Sherlock grins and struggles against John’s grip, pouting when he’s unsuccessful. “John, you want me as much as I want you.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m your _professor_!”

“Can you just forget that for a second and listen to me?” Sherlock snaps, pushing John back against the sofa with hands on his shoulders. Effectively pinned down, John decides to stop moving, realizing how futile his efforts are.

“Alright, I’m listening.”

“I said I needed your help, and I wasn’t lying,” Sherlock smiles, and John raises an eyebrow. Sherlock rolls his eyes again. “Okay, alright, I lied about what I needed help with. But I still need your help.”

“God, I really don’t want to know.”

Sherlock grins as he begins to rock back and forth on John’s lap, his own cock hard. “I think you would definitely want to know. You see, I’ve been having trouble concentrating in lectures because all I can think about is how your thick cock would feel in my tight hole or hot and heavy in my mouth. I have tried solving this problem by fingering myself pretending you’re doing it to me instead. When this method failed, I purchased a dildo and fucked myself _raw_ with it until I couldn’t sit properly the next day. But my mind is still filled with thoughts of you, John. I can’t think anymore. I need you to help me think again.”

John prides himself to be a strong man with principles, but in the end, he’s only human. And hearing Sherlock practically beg for him snaps something in him. Without thinking any further, John surges forward and captures Sherlock’s lips in a brutal kiss of tongue and teeth. Sherlock tenses in surprise at first, but he immediately relaxes against John with a moan. John feels Sherlock’s hand unbuckling John’s belt, and John stops him.

“John, please, I _need_ this,” Sherlock pleads softly, and John snarls.

“Take off your shirt.”

Without hesitation, Sherlock fumbles with the button of his shirt, deciding to just shuck it off when his fingers failed him from trembling too much.  
Seeing Sherlock’s beautiful, pale skin, John groans in awe – “ _God, you’re beautiful_ ” – and proceeds to suckle one of Sherlock’s dusky nipples into his mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sherlock moans brokenly into John’s hair, his fingers gripping the blonde’s locks almost painfully. “Fuck, John, _yes_!”

John hums in approval, causing the man on his lap to writhe and gasp. 

“I think it’s time you undress fully.”

Sherlock promptly climbs off John’s lap to take his ridiculously tight jeans off. When John notices that Sherlock wasn’t wearing underwear underneath his pants, he says, “ _Jesus_ , you’re filthy.” Sherlock moans at John’s dirty comment, and John catches this with a smirk. 

“You like it when I talk to you like a whore?” Sherlock lets out another longing moan. “Lie down on the sofa. I’m going to open you up with my fingers before I fuck you into oblivion.”

Sherlock does as he’s told, spreading his thighs. When John kneels in between his legs, spreading his legs even further, Sherlock moans out, “There’s lube and condoms in my bag.”

“You just knew I would fuck you, didn’t you?” John asks as he squirts a generous amount on his fingers. Before Sherlock could answer him, John presses a finger into Sherlock, effectively shutting him up. When he feels Sherlock’s muscles relaxing around him, he starts to speed up his thrusts.

“John!” Sherlock cries out when John hits his prostate, and John takes this as a sign to push a second finger. When Sherlock’s pushing his hips back against John’s fingers, basically fucking himself on them, John shoves in a third. “Oh _God_ , John, _stop_!”

“Hm, maybe I should just finger you until you come,” John licks his lips at the sight of a debauched Sherlock under him, watching his fingers disappear into Sherlock’s ass. “Watch you as you come apart impaled only on my fingers.”

Sherlock whines and shakes his head. “No, John, I want you to fuck me.”

Losing all sensible thought, John pulls his fingers out of Sherlock, who groans at the loss, and puts on a condom before hitching both of Sherlock’s legs over his shoulders, opening him up for John’s cock. Using one hand, he guides the head into Sherlock’s hole. 

“Fuck Jo- _hnnngg_ ,” Sherlock moans as John pushes in slowly, gritting his teeth in effort not to come immediately at the feeling of his cock being enveloped in the warm, tight hole.

“ _Jesus_ , Sherlock, you’re so fucking _tight_ ,” John breathes out, pulling out before pushing in hard. Sherlock keens at the brutal thrust, and John starts to set a steady rhythm that left Sherlock gasping for more. Before long, John's fucking Sherlock hard and deep, moving his hips as fast he can, making Sherlock moan with each thrust.

Hearing the sounds Sherlock's making and feeling his balls tightening, John knows they both won’t last long. But wanting Sherlock to come first, John takes Sherlock’s cock in his hands and changes the angle of his hips so he hits Sherlock’s prostate - " _Fuck_ , ye- _ahh_ , John! Right there, right the- _anhh_! Oh keep going, keep going!" - with every shove. Sherlock goes completely crazy under him, pushing back and biting his lips in an effort not to scream with pleasure. With a rough thrust against his sweet spot and a hard tug of his cock, Sherlock comes all over his stomach with a cry that’s muffled by John’s lips. 

Feeling Sherlock’s hole clenching around him, John begins to pound into Sherlock in abandon, chasing his own orgasm. Sherlock whimpers softly with each thrust, and hearing this, John’s pushed over the edge, coming with a sharp cry. Feeling John’s cock pulsating in him, Sherlock lets out a pleased moan.

John falls on top of Sherlock, burying his face in the crook of his neck. They’re both sweating and panting, and John can hear his heart beating in his ears. After awhile, he pulls out of Sherlock and stands to grab a cloth.

“Are you alright?” he asks the younger man as he cleans them both.

“More than alright,” Sherlock assures him with a grin. John shakes his head and feels a sudden, unexpected rush of affection, which is soon replaced by full realization of what just transpired.

“Oh _God_ , I just buggered one of my students,” he breathes out, sitting down on the sofa with his face in his hands.

There was a moment of silence before Sherlock lifts his head up and settles himself down on John’s lap again. With his hands cradling John’s face, he kisses John on the lips, slipping his tongue in when John lets out a soft moan. They do this for a few seconds ( _minutes? hours? years?_ ) before Sherlock pulls back with a smile.

“I always thought you hated me,” John says, voice hoarse from all the kissing. Sherlock chuckles.

“Believe me, Professor, I’ve wanted you since day one,” Sherlock murmurs, mouthing John’s mandible with his lips. 

“Well, you have an odd way of showing it.”

Sherlock shrugs with another smirk. “So, when can we do that again?”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated :)


End file.
